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Simon Oct 2019
Nothingness is without claim to a product. That product, being a flesh-eating desire of nothingness. How does that truly define what nothingness with a claim is about? Simple. It eats the nothingness from right out of your very claims. Tempting you to feel the flesh-eating desire of nothingness claims take variety in its own product. Giving you the desire to take effect against the primate that localizes themselves against the nothingness with a claim. A product to fashion itself full of thirsty varieties. A deep contemplating resolution to how one gently caresses there very essence into the nothingness. Claiming there very rights to its own product. How does two rights to a claim, maximize a product? The flesh-eating product of nothingness becomes dreadfully thirsty for those varieties belonging to the primate stepping into unknown territory. The flesh-eating nothingness begins to dissolve the essence of that primate altogether. Going easy as not to strain its own consumption. Or is it just desiring the inevitability of a never-ending claim to thirsty varieties? The primate’s essence filled to the brim with its product, is equalizing the claim of itself into the nothingness’s claim of flesh-eating symptoms. What happens when it’s had its fill? It’s a flesh-eating nothingness, right? What do you think it’s going to do…? Paint pictures of wanting to do something, even thou it could very well strain its own focus in the moment of doubt. No! It’s far older than some primate losing itself one consumable bite at any given time. Losing yourself one focal point at a time. Never knowing what the claim of nothingness could really amount to! Or what the product of flesh-eating gives when consuming you whole!
A flesh-eating nothingness isn't proud of it's claims, until it's invoked by a newly developed primed example. Logic in the essence of its victims will surely tempt its desire even more. Or even longer then it ever suspected before.
Imagine nothingness.
That nothingness which is nothing of the nothingness we are all familiar with:
Not that nothingness which is nothing but empty space and time
Like when you open an empty room.
That nothingness where nothing truly exists:
Not space,
Not even time.

A singular point.
Imagine a singular point.
The ultimate singular point that contains all possible points
In the development of the universe
Come out and expand
From the birthing of time, the instance of The Big Bang,
(Which by the way is not a large explosion, as the words imply, but a silent rapid expansion)
Pushing the envelope
Where nothingness begins.

Imagine chance.
The random occurrence of events:
Of fundamental particles colliding and uniting
Or annihilating each other,
Giving rise to protons, neutrons and electrons;
Giving rise to the periodic table,
To compounds, both organic and inorganic,
To macromolecules.

Billions of years.
Imagine billions of years
Gone by,
And billions of galaxies filling the sky:
Stars and quasars and pulsars
Planets and comets and meteors
***** nilly hurtling through
Dark matter and ever expanding space,
Yet inanimate still
A single cell.
Imagine a single cell
Form inexplicably so,
In a staggeringly highly improbable way
As carbon molecules combine,
Start to throb and pulsate:
Chance bringing forth life
In a barren and otherwise
Lifeless universe.

Imagine consciousness
Purposive, willful, deliberate

Imagine feelings
Love, compassion, hatred

Imagine all in a universe that came out of itself from nothingness.

It is hard, of course,
For after all, we are creatures of somethingness!

But at this point
You must have seen the Point
Of all the ramblings and turns in the trajectory of my thought
Tracing the evolutionary course of the universe
From nothingness and that singular point
That without God
All things are
After all
And so,
Let us not deplore, as a great poet once did,
That this world “so various, so beautiful, so new
Hath no joy, nor love, nor light
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain…”
For what else should we expect
Of a cold, unfeeling universe?

Give us some Novocain?
At this point, i find my mind still probing the boundaries of nothingness.
Mitchell Duran Apr 2011
Drawing myself instead of
The moving masses vibrating tyranical

To speak from a mouth
That can neither feel, see or do in

The rain pours faster when you are away
You said you couldn't stay because of the

Release me from this place
My mind, my feet, my arms, my

Let go of the soul that I was born to know
Grip lightly the light because there is only

A place where laughter echoes into

Nothingness breathes black weight
On my forever toiling and boiling bleak state of

Stumble to me baby
Please come my way
Cure this mean state of jagged and ragged
Jayanta Mar 2015
Nothingness always void,
There is something in vacuum!*

What we called as emptiness
Also having something
Full with energy and matter!

Nothingness always void,
There is something in vacuum!

If it gets the model set it will accelerate
Bloom and illuminate!
Nothingness always void,
There is something in vacuum!

In fact by mining the vacuum’s richness
A theory of everything may emerge!

Nothingness always void,
There is something in vacuum!

Space around everything is virtual
When everyone convulse for existence
Invisible firework display
It is dark energy
Take over the dynamics of creation
and we are dreaming!

Nothingness always void,
There is something in vacuity!

Explore your verve in emptiness
Gain oomph to illuminate everything!
Pauline Morris Mar 2016
Who knew nothingness could hurt so bad
Like the nothingness your words had
Nothing did they carry
In their nothingness my heart was buried
There was nothing when you looked into my eyes
Your nothingness made me cry
There was nothing in your hugs
Your nothingness Just made me shrug
Who knew nothing could hurt so bad
Your nothingness made me more than sad
Liz Nov 2015
It's a darkness that surrounds you.
It covers your eyes,
And swims in your ears.
To keep you from seeing light,
Or hearing laughter.

Instead you see everything
In a dull and dark way.
Colors are no longer vibrant,
And lines seem to be blurred.
There is no more beauty in a sunset,
Or majesty in the ocean.
It's just water now.

And every sound is muffled now.
You can't differentiate your favorite song
From any other anymore.
The sound of laughter is more bitter than sweet.
Every song is the same bleak humm.
And laughter just makes me wish I was deaf.

The darkness even dulls touch.
A kiss doesn't make your heart beat fast anymore.
And contact seems nauseating.
A kiss is just a reminder
That nothing good lasts.
And most other interaction makes my skin crawl.

But now the darkness is in your brain.
In here, sometimes it's not dull at all.
Sometimes the darkness
Takes the shape of a monster.
A monster that whispers terrible things
And just gets louder when you try not to listen.
Sometimes the darkness
Feels like war inside your mind.

But yes, again, the darkness is dull.
Sometimes there is no monster,
No war,
And no yelling at all.
Sometimes when the darkness gets in your mind,
It becomes a silence.
I can't make out a clear thought,
Because all there is
Is silence.
The darkness takes the shape
Of death.
The silence, the nothingness of death.
And it becomes part of you,
Making your mind nothing but silence
And nothingness.

But the worst part about the darkness
Is my inability to communicate its existence.
I can't make anyone understand
The many shapes it can take.
How it can be torturous and loud
But comfortable just the same.

It's easy to talk about the monster,
Because it's something foreign and
Something present.
But everything else,
The dullness of senses
And the silence it becomes,
Can't be expressed.
Because in these forms,
The darkness is absence of life.
It's absence of color,
And thought.

And it's so hard to paint a picture
Of something that isn't even there.
I can paint a picture of a monster
With ****** teeth and devilish eyes.
But I cannot paint the nothingness
The darkness so often is.

And to me, nothingness is the most dangerous.
I can fight a monster.
But I cannot fight nothing.
Nothingness will swallow you.
It will take over your senses
And thoughts,
And eventually will to live.

Life is colorful.
Life should be loud.
Life should be funny.
And sometimes painful.
But when the silence,
The nothingness arrives,
There is no color.
There is no sound.
No laughter.
Or even pain.
There is no life at all.
Shreya Inks Feb 2015
It’s dark, hard enough to see;
am lying drunk in memories,
the flashback stabbing me;
they said love is a disease.

I was scared, never believed;
know you had insecurities,
but you never said honey;
and we've missed opportunities.

How many times did I die?
wonder if I and you were we;
lost in abyss of nothingness,
walking the streets of uncertainty.
Being lost in abyss of nothingness;
I know there’s nothing to worry,
it will be fine; heard through grapevine,
promises echo in eternity honey.

Remember something?
when you said believe,
I did, I was in every word;
never knew you’d leave.

There’s no dream to dream;
like I've been drunk in misery,
was I delusional enough;
to not get it out of me?

So how many times I've to die?
wonder if I and you were we;
lost in abyss of nothingness,
walking the streets of uncertainty.
Being lost in abyss of nothingness;
I know there’s nothing to worry,
it will be fine; heard through grapevine,
promises echo in eternity honey.

P.S. My creation, please do not copy |© Protected | Image: Google
P.P.S. Work Of Fiction!
“There's something beautiful about nothingness, the eerie silence within, the emptiness, that hollow spot where you are mostly found, that yearning for isolation and disappearing from existence, refusing to be found again or ever again, completely repelling the presence of any other being. Echoes of nothingness are louder than anything I can hear. I don't know how mad I have been about living or existence, like I have been drunk in nothingness. When we are tired to find out the reason, guess we name it as nothing.”
Pdub Apr 2015
Nothingness hugs me
Nothingness puts me to sleep
Nothingness understands me
Nothingness lets me weep
Nothingness is my enemy
Nothingness is my everything
Nothingness isn't you
Nothingness is always me.
Robert Guerrero Nov 2014
It's the silent thumps
Things going bump in the night
Yet it's only my heart
Ceasing to give a **** anymore
I'm lost in this nothingness
Labeled loneliness by my own fears
Left alone in this prison darkness
Reminiscing about the conversations
The I love you's with countless meanings
Yet you just let me slip through
Not bothering to try and juggle me
I'd rather be up in the air
Than plummeting face first
Into my own grave dug by my heart
I'm lost in this nothingness
And you subsequently forgot me
Loneliness an almost peaceful hell
Yet my thoughts ravish this opportunity
Vultures to a herd of rotted elephants
I'm useless in your eyes
Your own feelings evading you
So what's to stop them from evading me
What's to say try we're never for me
But for the thoughts of somebody loving you
I can't mistake this
I don't love you
I'm ******* madly in love with you
Crying tsunami tears
Sinking battleships surviving hurricanes
Yet you don't stop to think
I'm lost in this nothingness
All because I couldn't keep my mouth shut
Keep my own stupid feelings to myself
I just had to tell you I love you
I just had to keep falling in
Maybe when rock bottom comes
I'll already be too broken and numb
But I can't blame you
It's not like you ever text back
Not like you're interested in saying hi
To the guy willing to give it all up for you
The one fighting fate just to be with you
What idiot stays to fight
When the reinforcements are surrendering
Who stands alone when the world
Holds machine guns to your head
Still says ******* and expects to live
I'm lost in this nothingness
Because you gave up
Thinking I would
Well it's a ******* option
It takes two to tango
Yet you're listening to the waltz
And I'm left to myself
Like a suicidal maniac with a gun
**** this **** I'm done
Good thing it's loaded
Maybe now you'll see
This nothingness is the reason for my loneliness
And hopefully the brain splatter
With draw it out for you
Wish I could tell you I love you now
But I don't think you'd even listen
the anthem of an empty soul*
a shell crammed full in nothingness
absolutely nil to this choral tune
vacancy's note played by one sole pan
there's a humdrum to its pitch
packing's plump the missing ingredient

always with an absence of ingredient
starved was this emaciated soul
not having the richest cloven pitch
inside infinite quantities of nothingness
ever the void sound to its pan
a totally scooped out dull tune

zero being in the husk of the tune
this cavernous space possessing no ingredient
like that of a dead hearted pan
as it had but the blankest soul
completely useless this bare nothingness
lacking of an ample vessel's pitch

such was the hopelessness to the pitch
its essence so poorly of tune
deprived this barren nothingness
the inner pith hollow of ingredient
all taken from the lifeless soul
where they'd be a destitute pan

an aimless chord in the pan
containing not a wholeness of pitch
the desert abiding without soul
insolvency was its lasting tune
so hungering for that ingredient
to quell the wretched nothingness  

an interior gulf replete in nothingness
needful of feeding with a brimming pan
craving much for the ingredient
that ever opulent barrow of pitch
a human warbling a pitiful tune
this ballad so dismal of soul

ingredient not present, a vast nothingness
soul much overloaded, in an unfurnished pan
*pitch harping the strains, of a unfilled tune
A festering toad, happening upon his friend the owl, began upon an uttering. A sort of delirious asking. "Why are people so afraid of death?" With this owl content and basking in the moonlight, they did speak upon the truth of the matter;

"Because when you're dead you're dead see?," the owl remarked so haphazardly.

"But what point is there in that statement," the frog stuttered in with a knowing kind of sinful grin;
"After death, could we not begin to fly with the stars, or at least just pretend that we are orbiting Mars?"

The owl simply replied, "Remember toad, while it is I who pierces the veil, it is you who must lead the spirit parade through it’s transformation."

The toad croaked a sigh at the owl, blinking its ever seeing eyes at his brother-in-arms in feigning return,remarking that “these must truly be times of madness for a mad toad to lead the way….

A shriek! "THEY ARE THOUGH, the rest of the animals forget, basic reality is made up of nothingness, so cheer up, we are all basically nothing, but agile enough to get by don’t cha know!," the owl looks to the moon in its sort of quick jerking way as if seeing some truth inked in it’s light.

"Agile?" the toad cups the question with his consciousness…."Agile enough to derive strength from above and to cater to love through the rough when we tumble hard and it feels so tough... But you know owl, there's life and blood to this stuff so we best start emitting light through  agape sans the gruff.

The toad started repeating a mantra towards the Crystalline reflective lake due south, the direction of healing, transformation, and death:

"the essence of your mind is intrinsically pure, the pure doesn’t mean a non-***** story...pure means clear….void. No eyes, no ears, no mouth, no heart, no I, no problem."

The owl began to speak a slow sort of lullaby in response to the mantra; “Luckily consciousness is like a mirror that needs to constantly be polished.”

The reflective lake of all things replied: “But in truth, there is no mirror. Thus, if you are living in nothingness and if there is no mirror, how can you be contaminated?

This is the most incredible nothing life has been privy to experience, for this nothingness is like the nothingness of space….which contains the whole universe, and out of this void comes everything and you are it. The fear of nothingness….IT plagues those we know, because it has been ignored .


At the appointed time Agnosia and with the approval of the moonlights shine, the foggy cloud of unknowing descended upon the lake, the toad, and the owl, who all began to speak to chorus in such sweet unison:

“That which is the knower or the known cannot be an object of its own knowledge, Fire does not burn itself. If you put something there on the divine platform, you stop short of knowing and you stop short of glowing.  Following the flowing senses of truth;  Don't stop until you can rejoice in the I that isn’t.”

Everything went quiet in the forest and on the lake, as the obtuse fog displaced itself. The forgetting had become complete.
The nothingness of everything
is the nothingness of me
the nothingness in everything
is the nothingness in dreams when they flee

— The End —